Le Vie En Rose
by invisiblepandaface
Summary: Life is coming together. Arnold's parents are home, Helga's dreams have become reality and everything seems to finally coming together in their lives. But weird nightmares and strange gifts show them all that the past doesn't stay in the past forever. Mystery/Romance Please review :)
1. Moonage Daydream

_**Disclaimer**_ : I do not own any characters or certain situations pulled from the show. _Hey Arnold_ is owned by Craig Bartlett and probably partially by Nickelodeon.

 **Chapter 1 – Moonage Daydream**

A cold chill blew through the trees as a thin figure rushed down the cobblestone path. The trees danced in the wind, moving their branches wildly like clawed hands reaching for the dark sky. The street lamps were the travelers only company on the deserted path way. The usual bustle of the city had given way to an unearthly silence but Arnold hardly noticed. He had to get home as quickly as possible. The reason was lost to him but he knew the dark, twisted knot in his stomach wasn't for nothing.

Stepping onto the street, the looming silhouette of a dark turn of the century mansion sat at the end of the block. The sight of the house made Arnold break into a sprint. Every light in the house as on making the windows shine brightly, almost vibrating in the distance. He could hear the whisper of a small voice in the back of his head questioning his movements. _Why are we running? Where are we? That's not our house…_ But every muscle in his body propelled him forward as if he was no longer in control of where his legs were carrying him. His common sense kept trying to tell him something wasn't right but the adrenaline coursing through his veins pushed any question out of his mind as his natural instincts took over. He had to make sure they were okay. No one was answering the phone now. He only hoped he was not too late.

Slamming into the door, he started banging on it wildly with his fists. "Dad! Dad! Answer the door! C'mon, Dad, it's me!" He screamed into the wood of the locked door. The frame of the door had started to vibrate. Though he could feel the hard wood vibrating under his beating fists, he couldn't register anything other than the fact he needed to get into the house. Backing away, he looked from side to side, hoping to find something to ram the door down with. Before he could grab anything, the door swung open. He was momentarily blinded by the sudden rush of bright light.

 _ **Shick! Shick!**_

Arnold slowly looked up. A dark figure pointed a loaded shot gun directly at his face. The barrel trembled as the figure tried to steady their hands on the gun.

"You… you've come for me!" The figure yelled at him "I knew… the moment I saw… that… what…"

Arnold squinted as he tried to make out who was speaking. He didn't recognized the voice but he knew his father was in the house. He spoke as he tried to see past the end of the barrel. "Dad…?"

The figure moved forward, jabbing the end of the gun into him. Arnold winced at the cold metal. The danger of the situation was becoming more and more real but he knew he had to find out what was happening.

"Dad, it's me!" He said, desperately trying not to panic but unable to stop his hands from shaking as he held them up. He could feel the metal through his t-shirt as his legs started to shake. "I was worried. Please, you wouldn't answer my calls and I…" Tears stung hot on his eyes.

 _What is going on? Why is he doing this? Doesn't he recognize me? What happened to…_

The man took a few steps forward, bringing his features into the light. Arnold felt his stomach hit the ground when he saw the face of the man.

"I've had enough of your twisted words, creature! You are no child of mine!" The football headed man spat madly at Arnold before steadying the shotgun. His steel blue eyes flashed with fear and madness. He had the look of a man driven to the brink with nothing left to hold on to. Arnold closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable…

 _Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold!_

Arnold woke up immediately, gasping and panting for air as he looked around the room wildly. Arnold wrenched his shirt up and looked down at his stomach. Breathing a sigh of relief, he realized it was all just a dream. He reached over and unplugged the alarm clock before throwing his head back onto the pillow.

Covering his eyes, he concentrated on calming his breathing while he tried to hold on to the details of the dream. It almost felt like a memory but he knew it couldn't be. A house… A man… A gun… Well, it wasn't an original dream or something really scary but the emotions he felt about the situation were what bothered him. _The man… he looked like…_ And before Arnold could completely grasp onto his mental pictures of the man, it was gone.

Shaking his head, Arnold rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. He reached to the remote on the floor, pressed a button that rolled the blinds away, revealing the skylight windows. The new morning light flooded the attic bedroom.

Swinging his legs to the retro yellow and orange carpet, Arnold looked around his room. The attic that his grandparents renovated for him as a child remained more or less the same. A faded cherry Gibson ES-335 guitar sat next to his red couch, unfolded from the wall. Sheets of music scattered on the couch, seemingly in some order that only the one working on them could make sense of. A black keyboard sat in the only free space someone could sit to work. A few new posters hung on his wall, paying homage to the likes of musicians like Kurt Cobain and John Lennon as well as his prized original Evil Dead movie poster. A tall book shelf stocked full of every book Arnold had ever read was shoved in the corner by his computer desk. Philosophy and poetry had become cherished volumes scattered among his quintessential horror and science fiction collection.

Looking down on the floor, he noticed a book sprawled open on the floor. He must have fallen asleep while he was reading last night. Grabbing the book, he shook his head at himself and scoffed at himself.

"I should probably not read Lovecraft before bed anymore…" He said to himself, setting the heavy volume on his bed.

He glanced over at his record player sitting between his bed and the vintage iron heater. Gerry Mulligan was still on the turn table. Placing the stylus at the beginning of the record, the warm crackle of the somber notes echoed through his room. Arnold closed his eyes and sighed. Jazz and the blues had always held a special place in his heart. Though he was now 15 years old, his tastes stayed the same for the most part. Sure, he started to gravitate to more rock music just like any teenager but the crooners of yesteryear held fast as one of his favorites.

Walking back over to his desk, Arnold passes by his mirror. Noticing a blemish on his chin, he rubbed his stubbly skin and leans closer to the mirror. He had grown considerably over the last six years. Still a little lanky, he was growing out of his awkward stage and starting to look like a young adult. Stretching his face with his hands, sighing, he thought about all the things he had to do before Monday night. He knew he had to make this something she would never forget.

He still remembers the day that started his new life. They had been running through the jungle in an attempt to get away from La Sombra and his men. After running through brush for what felt like hours, they crawled over a large fallen tree to take refuge on the other side. Arnold's eyes darted around in panic, looking and listening for any movement outside of their panted breathing. "Do… you… see… anyone…?" Arnold looked into the face of the girl that had been torturing him, as well as loving him, ever since he was 3 years old.

"I don't… think so…" Helga G. Pataki's face was scratched with dirt and fresh red marks from running through the tree branches, not bothering to dodge every little branch in a mad attempt to get far away from the men chasing them. Her blue eyes were starting to water and a sad shadow of fear started to cloud her eyes.

"Helga, no. Don't cry. We'll be okay. I promise." whispered Arnold as he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to his chest. He felt her stiffen slightly from his touch but didn't pull away. Arnold muttered to her, "I'm so sorry you are caught up in this. I never wanted anything to happen to you."

Helga pushed back from him.

"Yo… you have nothing to be sorry about, _Hair boy_. I followed you… it's not like you made me." Helga said, trying to put on her usual bully airs but her voice fell as she looked away from him. She pushed him away, hugging her knees to her chest.

Arnold moved himself in front of her vision, forcing her to look at him again. Her skin was cold and shivering when he touched her. He grabbed her shoulders and gently shook her. "No, don't do that! I am tired of you looking away from me!"

Arnold shuddered with adrenaline, fresh anxiety spreading in the pit of his stomach. She had avoided his eyes for months. A true friendship started to blossom between them at long last after three years of Helga's hateful charade. He knew what she said that night was true and he couldn't forget her words. Each rush confession and vow was burned into his mind. But the words didn't burn with discomfort or disgust. He felt warmed by the words, felt awakened by them. The more he thought about her, the more he remembered… everything. How she was always trying to protect him or help him, even if it was painful for her. She was always there just below the surface and he could now just feel the ripples of the real her.

And she now finally let him in. But she was terrified. He held her back to talk alone after a night bowling with Pheobe and Gerald. He was tired of the walls she kept placing in front of him. He wanted to tell her everything but she stopped him. She rushed away in a panic and then didn't speak or look at him for months. It hurt him deeply. But now, he knew he had to tell her. She couldn't run from him here. The guilt for cornering her was gone in an instant; he was forced to play this hand or risk dying without telling her.

"I have… to tell you something. I have to tell you… how I…" Arnold trailed off, losing his voice, not believing what he was about to say out loud to the girl he had been thinking about for the last three years. The girl whose hair smells like lavender. The girl that makes him feel like he is both alive and dead in her presence. The girl he dreamed of, night and day.

Arnold grabbed Helga's shaking hands within his own and took a deep breath.

"I know that night at the FTI building I said that we would forget about what was said. We just chocked it up to nerves and excitement and I said we could forget about it." Arnold looked up, meeting her eyes, "Well, I'm sorry but I really can't do that anymore."

Helga's eyes grew as big as saucers, staring unblinking at him. She anticipated what he would say and she wanted to run. Arnold saw it in her face. He held fast on to her hands to prevent her from bolting away from him.

Arnold looked into her eyes, locking her gaze. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said to me and the more I thought about it, the harder it was for me to get it out of my head. I thought about all the things you've done to me over the years. All the spitballs in my hair, the pudding, the constant ridicule and calling me names like _geek-bait_ , _yutz_ , or _football head_. I couldn't believe that you could seriously mean all those things that you said."

Helga looked away from him with tears in her eyes. Her tears hot trails down her cheeks as she shut her eyes tight, trying to shut Arnold out.

Arnold let go of one of her hands and wiped away her cheeks. The sudden gentle touch caused Helga to snap open her eyes in surprise. She was cemented within his gaze once again, fixed on his face. Arnold smiled into her eyes, thinking that even though she had been running through the jungle, dirty and scared, she was still so beautiful.

"But then I thought more and I remembered all the nice things you have done. I remembered when we first met when we were 3 years old. It was so long ago but I remembered. Sitting in Grandpa's Packard, wondering if anyone would want to be friends with me or talk to me. Then I saw you. You were walking alone and you had no coat, no boots and you were soaked from the rain. I hopped out of the front seat and opened my umbrella. You looked so sad and I didn't think anyone should ever look that sad. I remember your bow…"

Arnold's face blushed. He was fidgeting with Helga's hands within his own, his palms getting clammy. Anxiety started percolating in the pit of his heart, creeping throughout his body. He breathed out trying to calm his heart rate.

"I also remember how you made me feel. I instantly felt drawn to you, even at that age. I felt as if there was some thread that connected us, that I had almost known you somehow. I remembered that feeling when you told me how you really felt. I remembered and felt like I almost always knew. I just never fully realized until…"

Helga's cheeks started to blush red, her cerulean eyes gleaming. Arnold felt his own cheeks flush hot on his face, knowing what he now must say. Now or never.

"Helga… I want you to know… that…" Arnold was losing his nerve so he did something he never thought he would have the guts to do. He kissed Helga G. Pataki.

Arnold opened his eyes, letting the memories from years ago slip through his fingers as newer, happier ones played in front of his eyes. So much had changed.

They had found his parents and brought them home. He remembers his grandfather, Phil crying as he hugged Miles, over joyed to see his son that he thought he had lost 12 years ago. His grandmother, Gertie, stood on the stoop frozen in her shock. Staring at her long lost son and daughter-in-law, unable to believe her eyes. She wasn't sure if what she was seeing was real or one of her many hallucinations. Arnold's mother, Stella, ran up the stoop to Gertie and enveloped her in a hug, crying on her shoulder. The hug melted all Gertie's doubts about what was in front of her and she sobbed into Stella's shoulder. Both women sunk to the ground, embracing and crying. Arnold watched with tears in his eyes, elated to see his family reunited.

Once everything calmed down and the new tenants were settled, everything in Arnold's life started to fall into place. With his parents finally back, Arnold finally knew what it felt like to have a real family. The empty spot he had always felt in his heart was beginning to feel full. Arnold started helping his long lost father fix up the boarding house, bringing back the beauty of the old generational home. His dad also started telling him stories about the fascinating adventures he had over his extensive career as an anthropologist.

Arnold's favorite stories were the ones focused around the region's mythology. The Green Eyes were always a favorite but he started asking his dad to tell him the most frightening and ominous things he had experienced. Miles was a man of science and always tried to find the logic in what he had seen but he admitted that some of the acts that he bore witness too had left him unable to find any explanation. Arnold was fascinated with what his parents experienced deep in the jungle and couldn't get enough of their stories.

Every moment he wasn't with his dad, he was with Helga. They saw movies, talked about poetry, listened to Arnold's growing record collection and shared everything with each other. Everything felt effortless now that the truth was known between the two of them.

As he daydreamed about Helga, he sat on his bed and absent mindedly playing his guitar. His grandpa gave him his mother's guitar before they found them in San Lorenzo. It had been one of the few things that she had brought with her to the boarding house when Arnold was just a baby. Playing it came naturally to Arnold. He went through a few lessons with a private teacher. The lessons didn't last long before Arnold knew his guitar like he would know his own arm. It became an extension of himself.

With an exasperated sigh, he walked over to the couch, picking up one of the music sheets. He shook his head in annoyance. Reaching over, he grabbed his phone and dialed. After a few rings, a voice thick with ignorant cheer sang through the receiver.

"Good morning! Pataki residence!"

"Hi, Olga." Arnold grimaced at her sweet tone. "Is Helga awake?"

"Oh hi, Arnold! Well, gee, I'm just not sure. Let me see if she is and I'll get her for you!"

"Okay, thanks."

Seconds later, he could hear Olga singing up the stairs for Helga. Before long, he heard the sullen yells from his girlfriend to her sister before she picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Helga! Um, I didn't wake you up did I?"

"Nope, I've been up for a bit. Figured I'd get some writing in since I was up."

"Oh, cool!" He was glad she continued to write. She was a beautiful writer, far better than himself for sure, and he hoped she would never give up on it. "So you wanna come over today?"

"Sure, hair boy, I'll come over. What time are you thinkin'?"

"Whenever you want. I don't have any plans or anything…"

"Wait…" Helga said suspiciously. "Do you just want me to come over to help you with the song again?"

He could hear the slight annoyance in her voice but knew she was only half serious. "Of course not but… maybe you could… look at it for me?"

She was amazing at just about any creative subject she got her hands in. She played violin in the school symphony and played expertly. He could ways ask her for her honest opinion on anything he wrote and she would actually be able to give him a thoughtful answer. "Only if you want to… but you are kind of the best soo…"

"Fine, fine, fine stop graveling. Of course I will. Let me take a shower and get around and I'll be over in an hour and a half. How's that?"

"Awesome! You're amazing! Hey!"

"What now, football head?"

"I love you." He smiled into the receiver, picturing her warm smirk.

"I love you, too, Arnold. See you soon!"

"Bye!"

Arnold put down the phone, a love sick grin plastered on his face. The memory of the bizarre nightmare that woke him that morning officially faded into the background of his now all-consumed mind. He thought about how good it will feel to wrap his arms around her, feeling the velvet smooth of her skin on his own. The serene look in her eyes when she looked at him. The way his name flowed off of her lips. She had rippled her way into his life and now crashed like rolling ocean waves at his shore. Enveloping and taking him with her. Anywhere and everywhere.


	2. Hands Down

**Chapter 2 – Hands Down**

Helga stepped onto the sidewalk and started her walk to Arnold's. It had been two years already that they had been together. It still felt like one of her crazy daydreams but it was finally her reality. She would never forget how awful she was to him but it seemed that was how it was supposed to be. Neither one of them were mature enough to understand the feelings they were both feeling. They were so clueless back then.

Her love for him had made her blind to all that made Arnold a real person. She put him on a pedestal and began to be intimidated by this beacon in her life. She didn't see the faults in him, only the gallant knight coming to the rescue of those around him. After always feeling pulled to him, loving him so intensely, she was scared shitless of ever really being with him. Then, finally, he told her how he really felt. Sure, they were fearing they would both be caught and slaughtered brutally at any moment but that was beside the point. Any doubts she had disappeared with his words.

After spending real time around him, she discovered something she neglected to learn about him. Arnold was just like every other guy she knew and grew up with. He said the wrong thing, made gross jokes, was incredibly forgetful and one of the messiest people she had ever met. But he was also all the things she had always loved about him.

With his new love of his guitar, he spent a lot of time playing when she was over. It became like a permanent fixture, a new limb on his body he rarely put down. He also started singing to her, something that she often had daydreamed about. Some of them were terrible, silly songs. That was just a part of his personality. He loved to make her laugh so he tried at all lengths with songs full of stupid puns and dirty jokes. But the songs weren't always childish lyrics. He also started singing her songs that reminded him of her. What really threw her off guard wasn't him singing but the first song he sang to her.

Edith Piaf was one of her favorite singers. It wasn't just because the singer sung so beautifully in her French tongue, but the song itself was the manifestation of how she always felt about Arnold. _Le Vie En Rose._ She hadn't shared this information with anyone, including Pheobe. Hearing him sing that song on a whim, pure happenstance, she realized just how much he really loved her.

Helga never thought that this would be her life. She had been right in her feelings all those years. They really had something beautiful together. She felt they were invincible and nothing could touch them. Walking to Arnold's house, her boyfriend's house, she felt light as air.

Passing by window, she glanced at her reflection. The golden tones in her long hair caught the morning sun. She had finally left behind her trademark pigtails for a more natural look, allowing her hair to grow long and lay with waves down her back. Still a tomboy at heart, she wore a pair of torn-up pink converses with her dark grey sundress. Her eyes traveled to her face, a small smile playing on her lips. She had grown out of the awkwardness that followed her through childhood and started to settle into her own young adult features. She was never one to look in the mirror and gush over herself but she was not ashamed to say she was actually happy with what she saw. Having to live in your beautiful, older sister's shadow definitely didn't help a girl's confidence. Maybe it was partly because she knew, for once, that she was loved. She finally had someone in her life who she knew loved her deeply. That alone gave her confidence to be herself in front of her peers instead of the bully that she was as a child. She was happy at last and it suited her.

Helga found herself on the stoop of the Sunset Arms. Not knocking, she opened the door letting the parade of Abner and the other animals fly past her feet. Before she even got in the door, she was almost knocked over by a small football headed mop of light brown hair.

"Hey, Kid! What trouble are you lookin' for today?" Helga picked up the little girl, resting her on her hip.

"I climbed the tree!" The child raised her arms above her head and giggled. "So high!"

Arnold's little sister looked at Helga with excitement in her eyes, practically vibrating with energy. While Stella and Miles were stuck in the jungle, Stella had become pregnant and they had a little girl. Her name was Astrid. Astrid had grown up in the jungle until she was 4 years old so she was a wild little girl. She was a fury of dirty blond pigtails and intense green eyes. As the little girl adjusted to living in the city, she immediately bonded with Helga. Helga was never a big fan of small children but she loved the little girl's rough yet sweet personality. She could see how creative and adventurous Astrid was and found her a joy to be around.

"Can we play sling shot today? Pwease?" Astrid put her little hands together in a begging fashion and attempted to make her eyes as wide as possible.

"Sure! If your mommy is okay with that, we can practice sling shot together."

"Yay!" The little girl squealed and wrapped her arms around Helga's neck.

Helga hugged her back and spotted someone at the stairs.

Arnold smiled at both of them. "I figured you were here when I heard her screeching from upstairs."

Astrid spun around in Helga's arms. "BIG BROTHER!" Astrid pushed herself off of Helga and tackled Arnold's legs. She scurried up his body, climbing on to his shoulders.

"Helga said we can play sling shot! Play sling shot with us! Can we now?! PleasepleasepleasePLEASE!"

"Ow ow that's my hair, Astrid. Ow!"

"ASTRID!"

Both siblings stopped shifting around when they heard the voice of their mother. Stella walked into the entry way and grabbed her crazed daughter off her son.

"No one wants you yelling in their ears, Astrid! What have I told you?"

Astrid looked down at her feet. "Sorry, Mommy… Sorry, Arnold…"

Arnold rubbed the back of his neck, no doubt sore from his 6 year old sister jerking him around. "It's okay, Astrid." He kneeled down so he could be eye to eye with the little girl. "But can we play in a little bit? I need Helga's help with something and then we'll practice, okay?"

The little girls face spread into a happy smile. "Deal! Yaay!" She gave Arnold a hug and ran into the living room.

"You are so sweet to her, Arnold. You're such a good brother." Stella pushed some hair out of his face and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks, Mom. Figure if it makes her happy, it's not a big deal."

Stella smiled at her son. "You're so much like your father." She wore a long crocheted cardigan that she wrapped around herself. She looked very tired today. She had shadows under her eyes and was little pale.

"Are you feeling okay, Stella?" Helga asked.

"Oh, I'm fine! Just a little touch of something but I'll get over it. Thanks, sweetie." Stella waved dismissively and smiled. "You guys go do whatever you were gonna do and I'll call you when lunch is ready."

"Thanks, Mom!" Arnold grabbed Helga's hand and dragged her up the stairs.

Helga walked into his bedroom and looked over at his couch.

"You know it would probably help you to _not_ work in a mess like this." She walked over to the papers and started gathering up the music. Looking through the pages, she felt him put his hands on her hips. He wrapped his arms around her middle and laid his chin on her shoulder. She jumped a little when he touched her. Turning around, she spread her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer.

Even after being together for as long as they had, she still couldn't believe it. The boy she pined for, wrote books of poems about, built weird shrines of his likeness with his used gum was actually her boyfriend and really sincerely loved her. And he even knew about all that insanity!

She thought about that night they saved the neighborhood. The truth just came spilling out of her mouth like a busted dam. Nothing could have stopped that particular slur of words. His shocked face burned into her brain after she kissed him.

She opened her eyes to look into the present football headed boy in front of her. No shock, no confused look in his eye. All of those feelings had been replaced with what Helga could only see as love and adoration. She thought she had seen sparks of these emotions before but she always thought it was just her being foolish.

Before San Lorenzo, she would have never let him talk to her about the awkwardness between them. Ever since her intense confession on the roof of that building, she felt a deep shame and white hot fear at her core. Sure, he had let her off the hook but her passionate words were still said out loud. They hung in the air, like a cloud of poisonous gas threatening to smother her at any moment.

Time went by and she decided it was easier just to be meaner, to push him away so he never had the chance to shatter her world. She got away with it for a while and then he wanted to be friends. She let her guard down for one second. He just had to go and grab her hand that night. He might as well of tazed her with a cattle prod. She forgot she could run that fast.

Funny how she was reminded yet again of how quick she could move. Running for your life through the jungle has that effect. During all the chaos, she never thought he would have the nerve to want to talk about anything let alone chit-chat about why she had been avoiding him. It was all she could do to prevent herself from passing out as he grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes with that _look_. Those green opals looking into her soul, aching to tell her the truth, full of love and hope. She was glad he kissed her when he did. She might not have been able to help herself if he hadn't first.

Tracing her finger tips over his cheek, that goofy look was plastered all over his face. "It's still kinda weird seeing you look at me like that." She laughed nervously. "Criminy, I'm just as looney as your Grandma..."

"I think Grandma has some crazy points on you… You do remember she likes to think she's stalking wild game in the jungle when she's killing flies, right?" He said with his voice full of skepticism.

"Oh yeah! Ha! And she always calls you _Kimba_ when she's like that." Helga giggled at the thought. "I love that crazy lady."

Arnold rolled his eyes. "I love her too but ugh, that name..."

Helga laughed and gave him an impish grin. "Well, _Kimba_ , my birthday is Monday…" She hoped to get some more information about this 'surprise'. Not that she really hated surprises, she just liked to see if she could figure him out. He had his tells and she knew he hated it when she could read him like a book.

He raised his eyebrow. "Yes, yes it is. And I have things planned… You know this." His voice thick with suspicion as his eyes narrowed.

"Well, yeah. I do. But I was wondering if you can give me the details again? Just the ones you want to tell me of course…" She put on her best wide-eyed, innocent face.

"I already told you. I just want you to have a good day with Pheobe and be ready for me to pick you up at 6 o'clock from your house." He crossed his arms and leaned away from her. "I'm not telling you anything else, Helga. Now stop trying to ruin _this_ surprise."

"Hey! Who's trying to ruin _anything_ here?" She threw her hands up in mock defense. "Not _me_! Not _innocent_ , little old Helga Pataki over here!" At that comment, Arnold rolled his eyes and snorted out a laugh, quickly devolving into hysterical giggles.

Helga's face deadpanned and she squinted her eyes at the sight of this lanky blonde boy laughing at her. She crossed her arms, getting a little irritated at his over the top display of hysterics.

" _Really_? And what the hell are you exactly laughing at, _Arnoldo_?" She raised her eyebrow at her, possibly _ex_ , boyfriend.

Still shaking with laughter, he points a shaky finger at her. "You!... _snicker_ … Innocent?! … _snort_ … That's hilarious!" Arnold fell over laughing harder than before.

She turned her nose up at his response. _Seriously? It's that funny._ But then she started thinking and, yeah, that comment was probably pretty far off the mark. And maybe it was _kinda_ funny. A small amused smile started to curl along her lips before she started to laugh herself.

Suddenly, she felt Arnold grab her around her middle and pull her down to the bed. He was still snickering but he wrapped his arms around her as he pulled her close.

"Hey! No fair!" She tried to wiggle away but he held her tighter and cuddled her close, pulling her into a spooning position. She felt him relax and sigh deeply.

"Now, this is what I wanted." He nuzzled his face into back of her head. She relaxed, wiggling herself into her little spoon position and smiled. She grabbed his hand and kissed it, holding their clasped hands to her chest.

 _Oh, my love. My golden haired angel. How is this really our lives? Has our love truly come to fruition? Two young hearts completely, utterly, head-over-heels in actual, real and true love? In my wildest dreams, I couldn't have imagined it being so perfect. You're actually as mad for me as I have always been for you. We have so much actually in common. I wish I would have grown a pair years ago and just, at least, been a better friend to you. But we're together now, my gifted, gilded minstrel._

"Ohhh…" Helga had turned around during her internal testament to face who fueled her soul's fire. Arnold was playing with her hair, tucking it behind her ear and caressing her cheek. "A little eternal soliquoy?" He asked.

"Huh?!" His words brought her back down from the clouds. "Wh-what do you mean?"

He smiled. "You always sigh like that after you go on a fiery tangent about something you feel passionate about," Helga could see his cheeks get a little pink. "which usually means you're talking about, well, me."

Helga's jaw dropped, stunned at what he just said. "You mean… have you…?"

Arnold shrugged. "Well, I mean, yeah? Hiding behind a trashcan doesn't put you in a sound proof room, Helga."

The color drained from Helga's face. _This is it. This is the crazy thing that scares him off. I'm crazy, looney tunes, nutty as a fruitcake, a schizophrenic basket case, mad as a hatter…_

"I wish you would tell me that stuff to my face. You put words together so beautifully and you recite with such feeling. I can't believe how lucky I am to have someone who has such passion in their heart..."

Helga couldn't believe what she was hearing. She went from a cold pit in her stomach to melting from the warmth that spread through her body. Placing her hands on his warm cheeks, she pulled him closer. Inches from his lips, she pauses.

"Oh, my football-headed love. Mon Cherie. It is not you who is lucky for I, who has pined for you since childhood, has only dreamed of being this close to you, would do anything for you, loves you to the moon and beyond… I am the lucky one."

Closing the gap between them, Helga leaned in and kissed her beloved. She closed her eyes, taking in everything about the moment so she would never forget just how wonderful life could be. She hoped it would never change.


	3. Love You Madly

**Chapter 3 – Love You Madly**

"Bye, Helga! Have fun with Pheobe!"

Arnold closed the front door after giving his girlfriend a kiss good-bye. Leaning against the closed the front door, he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his pounding heart. He had a feeling that she would always have this effect on him. Even though it was hard to part, she couldn't find out what he was planning. He wanted her completely surprised so it was worth cutting their time short.

Walking down the foyer to the kitchen, he stopped when he heard a familiar voice.

"Heh heh, so I see your little girlfriend was over, eh Shortman?"

Arnold turned toward the voice and saw his grandfather sitting in his chair with a book in his lap. His face burned hot, embarrassed to be called out by his grandpa.

"Ye-yeah she was." Arnold rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. "Grandpa, can we talk?"

"Well sure, Arnold. What's on your mind?"

"Well, remember a few weeks ago when I asked you about that… umm…?"

Phil raised his eyebrow at Arnold but then relaxed as he recalled what his grandson was talking about. "Ah yes. Sit down, Shortman. I gotta story to tell you."

Arnold sat across from his grandfather and noticed the book in his lap was an old picture album. He leaned over to look at the picture it was open on. He recognized the man in the picture as the younger version of his great-grandfather. There was a dark haired woman that stood next to him dressed in a long, ornate dress. She had strong features etched in her face but she was beautiful. The look on her face was familiar but he was sure that he hadn't seen the photograph before.

"Who is that, Grandpa? I don't think I've seen this picture before."

"Oh, that's your great-grandfather and the lovely lady next to him is his first true love. You see, Arnold, she was from a gyspy family. In that time, certain groups of people were looked down upon and treated poorly. Well, I guess that never really changed… Funny thing about racism. It never seems to go away. Anywho, everyone in our family was against them being together. Two different worlds or what have you. It was a real Romeo and Juliet kinda story. But your great-grandfather never let something so stupid get in the way of him getting to know someone for who they really were. I suppose that's where you get it from, Shortman." Grandpa messed up his hair.

"He saw her at the local watering hole and was smitten immediately. Didn't even say two words to each other but he knew he had to meet her. It was love at first sight for both of them. Her name was Zelda Pataksley."

"Wait a minute. Grandpa, let me see that picture…" Arnold grabbed the album off his lap to get a better look at the old photograph. Strong features. Intense eyes. Slight scowl. He felt the blood drain from his face.

"Arnold, my boy! What's wrong? You look like you just ate some of that bad ham in the back of the fridge."

Arnold felt queasy but it wasn't from anything he ate.

"Grandpa… could this be… Pataksley… Pataki…?"

Grandpa looked at him for a second, not able to make sense of his grandson's reaction. Then it hit him and he laughed heartily.

"Oh boy! You know they could be related but, Oh HA HA, Shortman oh no, you really should of let me finish my story! Your great-grandfather loved this woman dearly but they never had any children together!" Grandpa let out a few more deep guffaws. Arnold sighed with relief. The sick fear in his stomach passed. _That would have been so…_

"She actually died very young and they only had a short time together."

 _Awful. God, that's horrible…_

"And I suppose that brings me to what you asked me last week…"

Grandpa pulled out a tattered, black box from his pocket. "This was hers. Your great-grandfather had given it to her as a token of his love. It had to be inconspicuous as an engagement ring so he made it for her using a moonstone he had found and polished. He was quite the craftsman. He made this ring to match the rest of her jewelry but made it special enough that they only knew what it really stood for. Some romantic stuff for sure."

Grandpa held the ring up for Arnold to see. The pale, iridescent stone glistened in the light. Arnold could make out the intricate pattern in the silver, the elegant design tangling around the band. You could tell someone put a lot of time and heart into the creation of the small piece of jewelry.

"Pops told me all of this, after mom passed of course, all about Zelda his true love. He loved your great-grandma but he knew he had something special with the gypsy woman. Soulmates was what he said. So he passed this ring down to me to give to someone I deemed special in my life. Your grandma wore it as her wedding ring. Your father married your mom so fast I didn't get the chance to pass it to him so now I give it to you, Arnold. I think it's time." Grandpa then set the small box into the palm of Arnold's open hand, officially bestowing the family heirloom to his grandson.

Arnold looked down at the little box with the top opened to expose the precious ring inside. Though Helga rarely wore jewelry, he could imagine this ring on her finger and it was perfect for her. Not too flashy but subtlety beautiful and elegant, just like her.

"Thank you, Grandpa. This is perfect." He looked at his grandpa apprehensively, shifting awkwardly. "Just so you know, I'm not asking her to marry me. That would be kinda crazy… right?"

Grandpa shrugged. "You're a mature young man, Arnold. I have always trusted your judgement and I still do. You obviously care a great deal for this girl. I've seen this all before… I know how it plays out." Grandpa laughed slyly, eyeing Arnold's grandmother as she galloped past the living room archway with Astrid on her back in bucking bronco fashion.

Moments later, Arnold opened the front door with his skate board in his hand and the precious box stuck in his pocket. He had to show Gerald and tell him all about his plans. He needed to talk over everything with his best friend before he gave this family heirloom to the girl he loved.

"Hey, Dad. Hiding from mom?" Arnold said half-hearted to the man in front of him.

Arnold's father was sitting on the bottom step, smoking a cigarette while he watched Astrid play with chalk on the sidewalk. He was dressed in his weekend clothes. Jeans and old t-shirts replaced his usual tweed and tie garb he wore as a college professor at the city university. Coming back to the states meant getting a stable job so he went back to teaching at his alum mater, the University of Washington. Miles shrugged at his son's observation.

"Hiding in plain sight, I guess. She knows I'm smoking again and she _knows_ I'll try quitting again." He took a drag off his cigarette and made eye contact with Arnold. "Don't you ever, EVER start this shit. It's a ridiculous, expensive habit. I wish I never started."

Arnold glanced over at his sister, noticing that instead of coloring with the chalk she was now using it to smash and terrify some black ants. ' _She sure has it out for bugs...'_ Arnold thought.

Arnold raised his eyebrow at his father. "Then quit. If you wanted to, I know you could."

"Oh, Arnold. If only it was that easy…" Miles took another drag. "Where are you off to?"

"Skate park." Arnold lifted up his warn skateboard. "Gerald's already waiting. He wants to get some b-roll for his documentary."

Miles nodded his head. "Cool. Well, have fun. Don't be too late."

Arnold rolled his eyes but replied respectfully. "I won't be I…"

"Look! Daddy!" Astrid's shriek of glee caught their attention. Mile's dropped his lit cigarette while Arnold's face drained of color.

"Archnid!" Astrid proudly stated as the large spider crawled slowly over her hand. Standing up, she started walking towards her father to give him a better look.

"Uhh… Good luck, Dad." Arnold turned tail and jumped on his board, moving away from the spider crisis as quickly as possible. He could hear his father attempting his calmest voice as he tried to get the spider out of his sister's hands without causing a panic.

* * *

"Arnold… I can't believe that this is what you're giving her for her birthday. I mean, isn't this kind of a serious gift here?" Gerald surveyed Arnold as he circled him in a deserted part of the skate park. Arnold was sitting on his board, looking at the small box in his the palm of his hand.

"You don't understand, Gerald. I want her to have something from me she can look at and reminds her of how much I love her. We can't always be together so I want to give her something that has a connection to me." Arnold said with a faraway look in his eye. "And what better then something like this? It's family history and everything!"

"I mean I get that, man but this just seems a lot like… well." Gerald stopped circling and looked awkwardly at his friend. "Dude, it's like you're gonna ask her to marry you or something. Don't you think that's how she will take this?"

"That's silly, Gerald. We're too young for that." Arnold paused, avoiding his best friends gaze. "But maybe that wouldn't be so bad if I, maybe, intended it to be a promise for… forever." He knew what Gerald's face would be when he looked up.

Gerald mouth was slack and his eyes wide in shock. Arnold rolled his eyes and sighed. "Why do you have to look at me like that, dude? Just be… supportive or something."

Gerald shook his head. "Arnold, you're bold but maybe this is too bold? I mean, what if this only freaks her out? We've just started high school… I mean… don't you want to date and see what's out there before you go handing out family heirlooms to a girl that was horrible to you for years, who confessed all these crazy _feelings_ she's had for you for years and then…"

Arnold glared at his best friend. He knew Gerald was only concerned for his well-being but he was going a little too far. Arnold understood why Helga avoided him and was mean to him. It wasn't even an issue at this point. Arnold was really nervous about giving this ring to Helga and he needed some positive words from his best friend.

Gerald was the one person he had told everything to about him and Helga's relationship. Arnold needed to talk things over with someone. These feelings and thoughts are too much to hash out internally. And this act of giving this ring to her was big. If anyone disapproved, he needed at least Gerald in his corner. This was something priceless. Something that was important to his family's history, a part of his lineage. Grandpa passed the ring down for him to give to the person that he felt to be his soulmate. It was really a big decision and a tremendous gift to give a girl he had only been really dating 2 years but… he knew.

 _But haven't I always known? We've had feelings for each other for far longer than 2 years. I don't want to wait to express this love I have for this beautiful person I finally have in my life. It doesn't matter if the whole world says that this is too soon or that we're too young. I love her and always, always want to be with her. This wonderful being with a sweet soul and good heart, who's creativity blows me away with every poem she writes, who's the most intelligent girl I've ever known, who's eyes shimmer like dark endless pools of sapphire, and hair that smells like…_

"Arnold! Hey Arnold!" Gerald reappeared in Arnold's field of vision, snapping him back to reality.

"Huh… Sorry, Gerald." Arnold blushed a little, embarrassed that he floated off like that in the middle of their conversation. He guessed Gerald was used to it but Arnold never liked to be rude.

"I just really need your support with this." Arnold said, almost pleadingly. "I need my best friend behind me. You trust that I wouldn't do anything that I would regret, right? I take this sort of decision probably more serious than anyone. And you're 100% right! This is a significant thing to give to a girl… but trust me when I say I have never been more sure of anything in my life."

Gerald looked him over skeptically. Shrugging his shoulders and sighing, he shook his head. "Alright, alright. I'm behind you with this. I told you I would help you set up anyway, man. I got your back."

Arnold grinned widely and jumped to his feet. "Awe, man! Thanks, Gerald! That means a lot!" They bumped fists, performing their trademark handshake.

"You know I always got you, dude." Gerald's eyes darted over Arnold and he snickered. "I mean, who would want to marry a Kurt Cobain-lookalike anyway."

Arnold looked down at his clothes and frowned. So his favorite jeans were torn from when he tried to land that kickflip, and his flannel was a little frayed, and his t-shirt was dirty, and his hair was a little longer than usual… Arnold rubbed his stubbly chin and huffed in frustration.

"Well c'mon, Gerald. I'm _obviously_ not wearing this when I give her this gift. Give me some credit here." He said, trying not to sound too offended. "And besides, she likes me just the way I am regardless of my clothes…" Arnold furrowed his brow, getting further frustrated. "And Kurt Cobain is a fucking genius! What's wrong with emulating someone with who inspires you anyway?"

Gerald rolled his eyes, his words thick with sarcasm. "Oh I don't know. What could possibly be wrong with looking up to a dude that shot himself in the head…"

Arnold threw his arms up in frustration. "You know that scenario doesn't stand up! With the amount of heroin in his system alone he could never pulled the trigger and not to mention the 'suicide' note he supposedly wrote AND the gun was wiped of any finger prints AND…"

"Alright, alright jeeze, Arnold. I was just messing with you. Damn, you take that whole thing too seriously…" Gerald said, backing up a few steps with his hands held up in surrender.

Arnold folded his arms across his chest and muttered. "I take injustice and murder seriously..."

Arnold knew Gerald had respect for how he felt but he could tell Gerald wasn't much for his musings about the injustice of the world or any of the other crazy tangents he could fall into. Arnold just knew how he felt about certain subjects and wasn't afraid to share his opinion.

Gerald rolled his eyes, hoping to change the subject. "Whatever, dude. Didn't you want to talk about Monday or something?"

Arnold perked up and smiled. "Yes! Okay, so you'll come over with the stuff from the theatre and we'll set everything up on the roof while Pheobe is taking Helga out for the afternoon." He started to shake with excitement. "I can't believe Mr. Horowitz really let you order that film for me. I hope it wasn't inconvenient or anything."

Gerald was back on his board, tic-tacing along in front of Arnold. "Yep, he's been the chilliest boss. I mean, he trusts me completely at the theatre and pretty much just comes in to do the business end of stuff. He said he'll show me how to do inventory soon. He keeps hinting that I'm management material but eh... I don't know if I want that much responsibility right now. As long as I get to work with the movies, I'm good. But yeah, I'll come by when the girls are doing their thing and help you set up the projector."

"And you got the right one, right? There's a couple different versions so…"

"Yeah, yeah I got you Coppola's _Dracula_ , don't worry about it. Sheesh, you guys are such weirdos about your movies. Wouldn't it make more sense to get a romantic movie or something like that since you're giving her such a mushy gift?"

"We love horror movies, what can I say." Arnold said as he shrugged. "Helga would wonder if I lost my mind if I got something mushy for us to watch on her birthday. I don't want her to suspect the nature of my gift in any way. Besides, _'Dracula'_ _is_ a romantic story and it's one of her favorite novels. She loves this version too so it will be perfect." Arnold's started looking off into the distance, distracted by thoughts of how he envisioned her birthday going.

" _Oh, Arnold! I can't believe you did all this for me!" Surrounded by white twinkling lights and paper lanterns, the whirl of the old movie projector mixed in with the sounds of the movie played around them. Arnold looked over at the beautiful girl next to him. She had a dreamy, lovelorn look in her eyes as she looked over at him. The white light of the moving pictures on the make-shift screen danced on her features. "This isn't all, my love." Reaching into this pocket, he produced the tattered box. Opening it, her face lit up. Her eyes tinkled with a mix of elation and…_

"Arnold! ARNOLD!"

"Huh!" Arnold snapped out of it yet again. He had grabbed Gerald's hand in the midst of his daydream, holding it as if it was Helga's.

Gerald ripped his hand out of Arnold's. "Dude, we're best buds and all but I don't need you blanking out on me and making out with my hand _again_."

Arnold face burned red. "Sorry, Gerald… I'm just… I'm… nervous and…"

"And completely head over heels for Helga. Yeah, yeah I know." Said Gerald in mock disgust. "Well, I promised to help you with the set up Monday so I need you to keep up your end of the deal." Holding up his camera, Gerald picked up his skateboard and put it to the side. "Alright I want my b-roll, man. I want to start editing tonight and I need some more footage before I get started. So…" Gerald looked expectantly at Arnold.

Arnold looked around the park, trying to piece together the end of Gerald's thought. "So… you want to just follow me on your board or is it a stationary shot or…?"

Gerald slapped his forehead. "Dammit, man! You forgot, didn't you?"

"Umm…" Arnold looked past his best friend, trying to remember what he must be forgetting.

" **Dude**! You were supposed to bring my lens with you! My fish eye lens that I left at your house! _Remember_? I've shot all my footage with that lens and I left it on your desk and you _said_ you would bring it with you today…?"

Arnold smacked himself on his forehead. "Oh fuck, Gerald I'm so sorry! After talking to Grandpa I completely forgot to grab it. I'm really sorry."

Gerald waved his apology off and sighed. "Eh, it's okay, man. I know you've had a lot on your mind. Let's just run to the boarding house and get the lens. My footage has to be consistent or its just going to look messed up when I put it all together."

"Alright, let's go! At least we're not too far from home."

Both boys grabbed their boards and headed down the street.

"So, uh, Arnold how's your mom doing?" Gerald asked giving Arnold a sideways glance.

Arnold looked back at his friend, surprised by his question. "Uh, she's fine. I guess she's had the flu or something for the last few days. Why? That's kind of a random question, dude…"

Gerald rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable. "Well, I dunno, she just hasn't seemed like herself lately. Whenever I've come over, she's been laying down or looking, like, really sick and it seems like she's been kinda worse lately…"

Arnold was kind of astonished by his friend's observation. "I mean, Mom said she thinks it's just allergies and a bad cold. Mom _is_ a doctor, I would think that if there is something serious going on, she wouldn't be stubborn enough to not go to the doctor by now… I trust her judgement so I guess I wasn't really worried about it… but now that you mention it…"

"You know, man, I'm sorry." Gerald said as he tried to push away what he just said. "I-I shouldn't of said anything. I'm sure everything is fine. So I was thinking about the footage I need maybe we could…"

Both boys froze as they rounded the corner on Arnold's street. An ambulance was sitting in front of the boarding house. Arnold's stomach dropped to the ground. Someone was being quickly wheeled out of the front door, his father at the side of the stretcher. Then, he saw the auburn hair... Fear spread through his veins as he broke into a sprint to the chaotic scene before his home.

" _Dad_! _**Dad**_!" His father was already in the back of the ambulance with his mother. The EMT slammed the doors shut and sped off, leaving Arnold staring at the fleeing vehicle. He shook his head in disbelief. "This can't be happening…"

"Arnold!" Grandpa called to Arnold. He had Astrid in his arms. She was crying and shaking.

"Grandpa, what happened?" Arnold stopped in front of his grandfather, fists clenched.

"Get in the Packard, boy. We gotta get to the hospital. Your mom collapsed and…" His face fell as he swallowed down the dread that Arnold could see in his eyes. "She had a seizure, Arnold and we don't know..."

The words echoed in his mind. He couldn't believe what he was hearing but he had no time to process the information. Arnold had forgotten Gerald was with him until he felt a hand grab his shoulder.

"Go, Arnold. I'll get a hold of Helga and let her know." Gerald said in a calm, cool voice.

Turning to face his best friend, Arnold felt tears well up in his eyes. "I don't understand, Gerald. How…"

"I know, buddy but you gotta go. I'm sorry, man…"

Arnold nodded his head and ran to the open car door, the frightening realization that there was something horribly wrong with his mom setting in with each movement. The anxiety of the situation caused him to shake uncontrollably. He couldn't help picturing his mother on the floor, convulsing violently as he watched helplessly. _Helga… please… where are you… I can't deal with this alone…_

* * *

Helga lifted her head from her warn copy of _'The Bell Jar'_ and looked around Slausen's. Something felt… off. Like something terrible had happened. Looking over at Pheobe still absorbed in her own book, she noticed the foreboding feeling wasn't mutual.

"Phebs?"

Helga's best friend looked up from her copy of ' _A Brief History of Time'_. "Yes, Helga?"

Helga shifted her eyes around the ice cream shop. Slausen's was pretty empty for a late afternoon, most people probably outside enjoying the pleasant weather. Though it was a beautiful day outside, it felt like there was a violent storm rolling its way to the docks, threatening to overtake Hillwood. She felt like a boulder was sitting on her chest, almost suffocating her.

"Something's not right…" Helga stomach churned. She couldn't help but wonder where Arnold was.

Pheobe cocked her head to the side with a thoughtful look. "What do you mean, Helga?"

Helga was digging in her purse for her phone. "I don't know, Phebs. It feels like something has happened. I can't really explain it…" She found her phone and pulled it out. "I'm just gonna call Arnold really quick."

Pheobe shrugged. "Oh I'm sure everything thing is…" She paused as she heard her own phone go off. Picking it up, she answered.

"Hi, Gerald! What's up?... Yeah, I'm with Helga… We're at Slausen's… _What_?..."

Helga was barely listening as she dialed Arnold's number. It rang and went to voice mail. " _ **Shit**_." It started to feel like all the air had been sucked out of the small shop and the world was completely silent. Helga dialed again, panicking. "Pickuppickuppickup…" Click. "Hel-Helga?"

Her heart rose and then sank at the sound of Arnold's voice. He sounded upset and like he had been crying. "A-Arnold? What's wrong? What happened?"

She could hear her boyfriend start to sob in the receiver. "I'm at the hospital… Mom collapsed… It's really bad, Helga…" Arnold broke down completely on the other side of the phone. Helga had never heard him cry like this. It petrified her. She stood up, gathering her things, shaking with tears building in her eyes.

"What hospital? Where are you?" Helga kept her voice steady. She couldn't fall apart before she got to him.

"Hillwood General… please hurry…" Arnold said between choked whimpers.

"I'll be there as quickly as possible." Helga ran out the door with Pheobe close behind her. "Just… it'll be okay. I promise. Just breathe."

She heard his breath catch as he tried to stifle another sob. "Okay. I'll try… Hurry."


	4. All Apologies

**Chapter 4 – All Apologies**

 _It's so cold in here. Why the fuck is it so cold in here._

The sterile smell of alcohol and various cleaning supplies mixing with stale coffee burned Helga's nose. She shifted carefully so she wouldn't disturb Astrid. She had finally fallen asleep curled up in her lap, head rested on her chest. The poor little girl was in the kitchen with Stella when she collapsed. Astrid's screaming brought Mile's running into the room. Helga shuddered as she thought about the traumatizing scene the child had witnessed.

It had been a couple of hours since Stella had been rushed to the hospital. The ER doctors rushed her into emergency surgery. They were still waiting to hear news on how she was doing.

Miles sat across from Helga, anxiously bouncing his leg. Whenever the swinging doors that led back to the operating rooms opened, he jumped up expecting to finally hear word on what was happening with his wife. It was obvious he needed to go outside to smoke. He needed something to calm his nerves but he wouldn't leave the room till he knew what was happening.

Phil sat next to him with his arms crossed. He kept glancing up at his son, sick with worry but at a loss for words. Gertie sat next to him with her hands in her lap. Helga never saw Gertie so… sane. She was usually lost in her own version of the world, talking about cowboys or spies but she was actually lucid. She was the worried elderly mother, the lines in her face more pronounced as she stared blankly at the neutral carpet. The whole situation was so surreal. Helga wondered if it was all even really happening.

Helga looked down at her hand entangled in Arnold's. His hand held on with a death grip as if she would fly away if he let go. His eyes were red and unblinking as he stared at the floor. He had been beside himself when she walked into the hospital. The memory of seeing the boy she loved so much in emotional tatters was heart breaking. She wished there was some magic arrangement of words she could say to him to make it better but there was nothing that would do this situation justice.

It wasn't a mystery to her as to why Arnold was so upset. He had operated a majority of his life as an orphan. The day they found his parents was the happiest she had ever seen him. He finally had what he had missed out on for years. The memory of parents' weekend resonated in her mind. Watched the rest of his friends have loving interactions with their own parents and then the sharp words her father had said about him and his family. _Ugh, Bob. What an ass._ It was something that he had desperately wanted and needed in his life. Though his grandparents were wonderful people and were always there for him, no one can replace your real parents. And now he might lose one of them again.

Studying his face, she tried to come up with something comforting to say. She could feel the anxiety pouring off of him as his mind raced a mile a minute. He was thinking of every possible situation and outcome. It was plastered all over his face. As his brow furled and tears started to build, his free hand shot up to his face in an attempt to stop the oncoming waterfall.

Squeezing his hand, she felt she needed to say something. "Arn-"

"Family for Stella Shortman?" The doctor stood in the doorway with a clip board in his hands looking around the waiting room.

"Here!" Miles jumped up as the doctor walked toward their group, everyone getting to their feet. "What's happening with my wife?" The doctor surveyed their group, his eyes glancing over at the 3 children in the room. He then turned to Miles. "Let's speak in private, Mr…"

"Doctor. Doctor Shortman." Miles corrected and extended his hand in a show of respect. "And yes, that might be best." Side glancing at Phil, both men exchanged a thoughtful glance and nodded. "Okay. Lead the way."

As both men walked away, Arnold walked after them. Phil put his hand on Arnold shoulder and stopped him. "Just give them a second, Arnold. He'll be right back."

Arnold looked up at his grandfather helplessly. He looked like he was about to argue but his face softened.

Miles and the doctor only went past the double doors, just out of ear shot but the family could still see them. Each man framed in the small windows on the doors, Helga could make out a few words the doctor was saying. The look on Mile's face only confirmed what she thought.

' _Cancer… brain… terminal…_ ' **Terminal**.

Helga swung her head to look over to Arnold. He was white as a ghost and looked like he was about to pass out. Suddenly, he let go of her hand and shook off his grandfather, running out of the waiting room.

"Arnold, wait!" Helga yelled after him. Passing the now awake Astrid over to Gertie, she sprinted after him. Running behind him, trying to avoid colliding with any patients or doctors. She saw him run out into an empty court yard.

Running through the doors, she saw him sitting on one of the benches, his face in his hands. She slowly walked towards him and sat down on the bench. Turning herself to him, she apprehensively puts her hand on his knee.

Arnold sighed and said. "I already know what you're going to say."

Helga jumped when he spoke. It was the first time in the last few hours he spoke a coherent sentence. Though she knew it was hardly the time, she couldn't help but sound a little sarcastic and skeptical. "Oh, really?"

"Of course I do… " He swung himself around to look her in the eye, dramatically impersonating herself. " _'C'mon, Football Head! Where's that good old positivity that you're always saturating the world with? It'll be okay. It always works out, doesn't it?'_ " He looked away from her, putting his eyes back into his hand. Looking back up, he had stubborn tears in his eyes. "Well, doesn't it?"

Helga's eyes start to water as the surprised look on her face fell. Though she's played the part before, being the positive one in their relationship was never her forte. She thought about all the kind words of encouragement or insight that he had offered her over the years. Even when she was trying her damnedest to push him away, he still offered her constructive words of comfort. Shaking her head, she tried to be more assuring and softly grabbed his hands.

"Listen, your mom is tough. I mean, look at all the things she's accomplished!" She said, her face brightening as she thought about Stella. "She's survived the jungle, created cures for sicknesses that were wiping out ancient civilizations, and even rescued a line cart full of people from dropping into a bay. She's, like, basically a super hero. And your Dad is just as brilliant and bad-ass. You know they won't let this go without a fight. Do you really think either one of them are going to just give up or except anything the doctor says?" Helga finished and watched as Arnold seemed to think about what she was saying.

"I guess I didn't know what you were gonna say." He gave her a small smile and nodded. "I needed to hear that… You are absolutely right. My parents have fought tooth and nail for other people for a long time. There's no reason they wouldn't do the same for each other."

Helga squeezed his fingers within her own in reassurance. It was good to hear the usual positive tone in his words return but she could hear the air of disbelief in his voice. He was trying to be realistic. He knew that there was a chance of losing his new found family dynamic but realism isn't what they needed. Hope is what they needed and thinking anything but positive would just make it all the harder to move forward.

Giving him a warm smile, she kissed the back of his hand. "There's my goody-two-shoed football head." _Or at least some of him._ He gave a light laugh at the old nickname, squeezing her hand.

"Hey, guys." Both of them looked over to see Miles walking through the doors towards them. He had a lit cigarette in his hand and looked considerably calmer. His face was hopeful as a smile played on his lips but his eyes were tortured and tired. Arnold stood so he could face his father, trying to keep the strength together to not fall to pieces again.

Miles put a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder. "Some day, huh?" Miles looked back and forth between the two teens, giving an awkward smile in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, your mom is out of surgery. It went well and she's out of the woods for now. We're going to do absolutely everything we can to figure out how to beat this. Son, you have my word. I will save your mother and she will fight like crazy to stay with you and your sister." Miles choked at those last words, looking down at the floor. They all stood in silence, taking in the echoes of what was just said.

Arnold let out a shaky sigh and muttered. "Did the doctor really say she's terminal?"

Miles nodded, unsurprised at his son's direct manner. He cleared his throat and made eye contact with Arnold. "But the second she wakes up, we will hit the ground running with this. Between the team here at the hospital, me and your mother, we will get her well again. I promise."

Arnold looked from his father to Helga. Dark bags were starting to form under his eyes, worry settling back into his features. Helga reached up and grabbed his hand. _It will be okay._ She willed her eyes to show what she was thinking so Arnold could understand. _Remember?_

He smiled at her before looking back to his father.

"Okay, Dad. Whatever you say." Miles smiled with tears in his eyes and embraced his son.

"That's my boy." Miles patted Arnold's back as they parted. "Now, I am going to stay here tonight and get some tests started while I watch over your mother. She probably won't wake up till tomorrow morning so I want you guys to all go home. I will call as soon as anything changes. If you don't hear from me, just come in the morning when visiting hours start."

Arnold nodded and looked back at Helga. "If it's okay and she wants to, can Helga stay at the boarding house tonight, Dad?"

Miles look surprised at the question but then nodded. "Yeah, that's okay but just for tonight. This won't be becoming a thing."

"Oh, no I know I just…" Arnold hung his head and said, with shame in his voice. "I just don't really want to be alone tonight."

Miles nodded in understanding. "Well, your grandparents are waiting for you guys. Go home and try to relax before tomorrow. This is going to be hard but your mom needs us to be strong and be there for her. We have to stick together, okay?"

Arnold nodded but this time couldn't stop the tears. Miles hugged his son, rubbing his back with comfort. Miles looked down at Helga to see the tears streaming down her face. He grabbed her hand, addressing both emotional teens. "It will be okay, guys. I will make sure it is okay."

* * *

Turning the door knob to his room, Arnold walked like a zombie to his bed and sat down. He was completely drained from the last few hours.

" _What the fuck just even happened_. _"_ He thought as he buried his face within his hands.

Coming home was an otherworldly experience knowing that his mother wasn't downstairs, bustling around with Grandma getting dinner ready.

Astrid was still very upset but it couldn't outweigh how tired she was. Grandma had put her to bed the minute they got home and decided she would get busy making them all something for supper. He heard Grandpa try to tell her that no one was probably all that hungry but she flitted past him. Arnold suspected that she was using that as an excuse to keep everyone out of the kitchen so she could take care of the aftermath of his mother's incident. He shuddered as he thought about what possible mess there was to clean up.

Feeling the bed bend to added weight, he looked up at Helga now sitting next to him. Her face was wrinkled in worry and her eyes puffy from crying. He hated to see her upset but he wasn't in the right mind to be comforting. They were both pretty upset over everything that happened the last few hours. It had started as such a good day, well relatively at least. The strange dream still sat at the edge of his memory but was quickly replaced by thoughts of his morning with Helga and his talk with both Grandpa and Gerald. He was relieved to have both of them on his side with his decision. And his grandpa even had enough confidence in him to give him the ring. At that thought, he felt the little box that still sat in his jeans pocket, the edges of which were digging at his leg.

"Um, Helga? Can you possibly get us some water?" said Arnold, trying to sound relaxed. "I wanna pick up a second and get a record ready. Maybe we can just listen to music for a little while and I'll find you some pajamas or something?" He hoped that she hadn't noticed his ploy to get her out of the room for a moment.

Helga smiled and nodded, seemingly unaware of any sense of nervousness in his voice. "Okay, sure I can do that. Are there still water bottles in the garage?"

"Yup! Thanks, Helga." Arnold grabbed her hand before she left the room. "No really, thank you for everything today. I couldn't do this without you."

She smiled sweetly. "Anytime, Arnoldo. You couldn't get rid of me if you tried." She kissed him on the cheek.

Looking after her for a moment, he sighed as he felt his chest expand with warmth. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the small box. Jumping onto his bed, he reached up on the top shelf and felt around for an old tin box. Opening the box full of ticket stubs and game tokens, he placed the ring box inside. Even though today was terrible and he was still so worried about his mom, he was more confident of what he wanted. The fact that Helga was so willing to be there for him and hold his hand through something so traumatic only solidified that this was her ring. He felt like it was never really his to give but for him to return to her when the time was right.

He carefully closed the tin and put it back on the shelf, pushing it back behind some books so it wouldn't catch her eye. Stepping down off his bed, he knelt down in front of his record box. Once the record was on the turntable, he busied himself picking up some clothes off the floor. He was singing along with the familiar raspy voice when he heard the door open.

"'Unplugged', eh?" Helga walked back into the room. "We haven't listened this one in a while."

"Figured it fit. Somber and melancholy but still uplifting in some way." Arnold turned around and shrugged. "I wanted to listen to them but I didn't feel right putting on 'Bleach' or 'In Utero'. This seemed right."

Helga nodded. Sitting down on the bed, she handed him a water bottle to him and patted the spot next to her. Arnold followed her instruction and sat, his mind starting to feel fatigued and heavy again.

"You okay?" She rubbed his back as she asked the question. He sighed and looked up at the dark sky. Closing his eyes, he tried to allow himself to enjoy the comfort she was trying to offer but his stomach was a black pit again as all the thoughts clouding his mind made it impossible to think of much else. He rubbed his eyes out of frustration.

"Not really." He said, shaking his head. Spotting his remote, he picked it up to shut all the lights off. Light was only irritating at this point. He just wanted to not think for a while. Laying back on the bed, he looked over at the dark outline of the girl sitting next to him. He couldn't tell but it looked like she was looking at the floor, lost in her own thoughts. Reaching over, he brought her head onto his chest.

"Can we just lay here for a while? Just listen to music?" Arnold played with her hand. He felt like he had asked so much of her today to ask one more thing was too much.

"Sounds perfect to me, football head." Helga cuddled closer to him. Leaning over, she kissed his nose before laying back next to him.


	5. Mad World

**Chapter 5 – Mad World**

Walking into the large atrium, Helga looked around. Light poured into the large windows, illuminating the white marble floors. A few sculptures acted as the welcoming committee, decorating the large cement steps that traveled further into the museum. Climbing the steps, she glanced at the sculptures that kept vigil on down the center of the giant stairway but sped past them without much contemplation.

Looking back down at the note in her hand, she scanned Arnold's handwriting.

 _Meet me under the stars._

 _1300 First Avenue._

 _1:30 PM._

Helga smiled to herself. "Too easy."

Solving riddles and puzzles was something that she excelled at. If this was meant to be a challenge, it was laughable. She knew Arnold only did this to cover up a surprise, trying to make her birthday memorable but she couldn't help feeling somewhat smug about how easy this clue was. Looking around again, she spotted the framed posters showcasing all the exhibits, old and new. All the typical shows remained at the museum but she knew she was looking for something new, something 'under the stars'.

Scanning through the posters, she ticked off each exhibit to herself. "No… Nu-uh… Ugh NO…" Pausing at the newest poster, a smirk stretched across her lips. "Of course!" She laughed manically. "I got you now, Hair boy!" She yelled, running down the hall.

The museum was surprisingly empty for a week that all the schools were out but she hardly noticed. Once again, Helga G. Pataki figured it all out! She wasn't the smartest girl in class, well next to Pheobe, for nothing. Running down the halls decorated with old oil paintings and dusty sculptures, she almost felt like she had wheels attached to her shoes. An otherworldly energy hung in the air but Helga hardly noticed it. Reading the signs as she sped past, she knew she was almost there. Skidding to a stop, she saw the familiar blonde mess of hair in front of her, sitting on a wooden bench seemingly looking at the large painting in front of him.

"Ha ha! You thought you could stump me!" Helga took long strides up to the bench he was sitting on. He didn't move when she spoke but she didn't think much of it. "I mean, if you really wanted to make me search for hours, you should have picked something a little more obscure like one of those boss-as-fuck masks in the Native American exhibit. I mean, it's clique as hell but you really can't beat Van Go…"

Stopping dead in her tracks, she was finally able to see Arnold's face. It was nothing but a blank canvas of skin. Any trace of a mouth, a nose, or eyes were gone. She felt her stomach drop to the floor before she screamed loud enough to wake the dead. The sound of her scream seemed to get the attention of the faceless doppelganger and it slowly turned towards her.

"Wha-What… What is… are…?" She stuttered, unable to comprehend what was in front of her.

The being rose to its feet and slowly started to shuffle toward her. Frozen in fear, her voice caught in her throat as she watched helplessly as the thing moved almost drunkenly toward her. It started to paw at its smooth face. Seemingly getting more frustrated, the creature started clawing where its mouth should have been. Then, to Helga's horror, the thing started to dig its fingers into its skin and began to create itself a mouth.

Helga watched as the mouth became wider and wider until it actually went across the width of the oblong face. Once the creature seemed satisfied with its work, the still bleeding gash uttered a gurgling yowl. She clamped her hands over her ears as the thing bellowed louder, the gurgling giving way into a high pitched, demonic screech. Blood was pouring from the creature's new mouth as it jerked its body towards her. It dragged its feet through the mess of flesh and red that now littered the floor.

Falling backwards to the floor, she braced herself for whatever was coming. She closed her eyes, praying that whatever this thing was and who ever put it there would make it stop. Then, as suddenly as the disturbing scene began, the loud wailing stopped. She slowly raised her head and saw… nothing.

Looking around, she realized there was absolutely nothing. The nightmare Arnold, the horrific scene, the wooden bench, the paintings. Everyone was gone. There was still a floor but everything was bright white. Letting out a scared, exasperated cry, she grabbed handfuls of her own hair and pulled in agony.

"This can't be happening!" Anger was bubbling up in her chest. Things like this just didn't happen in real life. She felt like she was being played with and it only fueled her rage.

"What the hell is this!?" She screamed into the blank surroundings, desperately wanting an answer.

A roaring noise accompanied a blur of color started to rush past her like a freight train. She covered her face to protect herself from the strong gust of wind that brought in her new surroundings. Once the environment settled, she looked up. She was in a large, ornate room. The walls were dark, covered with oddities, oil paintings and dark curtains. In the center of the room, there was a small round table with two chairs facing each other. Sitting down at the table, she noticed a spread of cards on the table. All the cards had the same intricate white vine motif surrounding three full rose blossoms. They looked hand painted, antique and well used. Hovering her hand above the cards, she reached for one of them. Flipping it over, she gasped and dropped the card on the table. The cracked painting of the skull-faced reaper stared back up at her.

"Come now, my dear. Death isn't _all_ bad."

Helga jumped at the cracked voice. Across the table now sat an old woman. Her long, white hair hung long from under the hood of a blood red cloak. The woman's crooked smile was all that was visible from under the hood. She reached to grab the card off the table. Helga noticed an intricate burn on the back of the hag's hand. The markings made her think of an asterisk with added lines and curves creating a seal of some kind. A sense of familiarity came over her as she stared at the discolored scar.

Feeling a surge of bravery, Helga grabbed the woman's wrist. She was taking charge of this situation and this woman was going to tell her what was going on. No one toys with her like this and gets away with it.

She stared fiercely where she assumed the woman's eyes were and said in a demanding voice, "Alright, cut the crap, lady. Who are you, where am I and what do you want?"

Suddenly, the gnarled hand wrapped around Helga's wrist and pulled her across the table. She was close enough now that she could smell the woman's moldy robes. The hag wrapped another wrinkled hand around Helga's other arm. The old woman's strength was surprising as she dug her nails into Helga's skin. A toothy, Cheshire-cat grin spread across the hooded face. The hag began to make a deep, guttural sound that made Helga's insides run cold. The woman's body started to shake with the intonation of the sound as it crescendoed higher, becoming a gargled screech. Helga felt her eyes stretch wide. The woman was _laughing_.

The laughing intensified as the hag threw her head back. Helga swallowed her fear as she tried to pull away, wiggling and pulling with panic spreading through her body but the hag's grip was too tight. Suddenly, the woman whipped her head back to look right into Helga's eyes. The eyes held a dangerous glimmer as they stared deep into Helga's, the electric blue penetrating into her soul. Helga's chest tightened as if all the air had disappeared from her surroundings. The face was one she knew all too well.

"Happy birthday… _Helga_."

* * *

Helga woke up, drenched in a cold sweat and panting like she had just ran for her life. The adrenaline coursed through her veins as she whipped her head around, expecting to see the woman still around her. Letting out a breath of relief, she saw she was alone in her room.

"It was all just a dream... Heh a really, super, crazy, intense dream…" Helga reached her shaking hand for the water at her bedside table and glanced at her wrist. Bright red marks were the old woman…

 _Knock. Knock._ "Uh… Helga? You awake in there, girl?"

Helga jumped at the sound of her father's muffled voice.

"Uh, yeah, **Bob.** _Criminy_ , you scared me… I'll be down in a second."

The door knob clicked and she could hear Bob behind the door.

"Um… you decent in there? I kind of have something to give you before breakfast."

"Uh, yeah, sure… Um… Come in." Helga was so surprised by his words she couldn't bring herself to snap at him again.

Bob walked into her room with a box wrapped in brown paper. It didn't look like a usual gift. Helga sat up as Bob sat on the bed. He looked at her then to the box and sighed.

"I promised your grandma I would give this to you when you turned 16." Bob said with an air of apprehension. "I guess her plan was to give it to you herself but… Well, she got sick first. When I was with her the last few weeks, she dragged this out and made me promise to give it to you." He sighed again, looking over at Helga. "My mom was kinda of a mystery growing up. She didn't share much with me but I always had the feeling she was doing something… important."

He placed the box in front of Helga on the bed. She reached for the box, inspecting the plain wrappings. _Seems harmless enough._ Before she started ripping the paper off, Bob put his hand on the box and shook his head.

"I can't be in here when you open it." Bob said and added potently. "Your grandma's instructions."

Helga gave her father a confused look and she could feel her excitement for the mysterious gift begin to fade. She didn't even really want to be near it anymore. Before she could say anything, Bob stood up and walked to the door. Placing his hand on the door knob, he paused.

"Happy birthday, kid."

Helga smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

Once the door clicked closed, Helga looked back down at the package in her lap. The box felt heavy and it made some noise when she shook it lightly. Picking at the already torn paper, she put her face in her free hand and groaned.

"What is with the last few minutes of my _life_?" She said to the silence of her room. "I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if flaming bat-people burst out of this box the way this morning's been going. What the hell was that dream? And what the _fuck_ is going on with Bob!?" Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she sighed.

The day had barely started and she already had a headache. She looked back over to the brown box, feeling her trademark rage percolate to the surface.

" _Fuck_ what grandma wanted. I'm done with this creepy, ass morning. I've seen too many horror movies to open a box like _this_ alone." She jabbed her finger accusingly at the box. "I'll find out what's in you but first, I need the smartest person I know."

* * *

"Well, Helga, that does sound like a very strange turn of events." Pheobe looked concerned but Helga knew what was coming. "But, don't you think maybe you're over reacting? I mean you do tend to indulge in a certain genre of film and television that envisions certain abnormal and, honestly, terrifying situations."

Helga rolled her eyes as she stirred her coffee. Sitting at the diner, Helga had decided on a liquid breakfast while she watched Pheobe eat her omelet and toast. She was too pumped up with everything that had happened to even touch food.

"Well that might be true but… I dunno. It's hard to explain." Helga said. She tried to keep from snapping at Phoebe. The frustration of explaining everything was only intensifying her headache. "I mean, I woke up with marks on my arm where the old bitch grabbed me. How do you explain that, Einstein?"

Pheobe looked down at her plate, thinking carefully before she spoke. "Maybe the dream is your subconscious telling you something about yourself. It would explain you seeing the old woman with your similar features. And, in the crazed fit your dream caused, you grabbed your own arm in your sleep and caused the red mark."

"Well…" Helga's face felt warm. _Well, that makes perfect, logical sense_. "Yeah, you're probably right about that. But what about Bob? I mean, that was weird and this 'gift' from my crazy, dead grandma. We weren't close or anything. I just don't get it."

"Well, maybe it's time to open the package your father gave you then." She pushed the box a little closer to Helga. "Face the problem head on! It really could just be a nice gift from your grandmother after all."

Grimacing, Helga pulled the box towards herself. Even though what Pheobe said made perfect sense and she was probably just imaging all of this, she couldn't help but still feel weird about the whole thing. Holding her breath, she started ripping at the paper and opening the box. Reaching in, she was surprised by what she felt.

"Books?" She held up a warn leather book for Pheobe to see.

"Oh, well isn't that delightful! I wonder if they are first editions!" Pheobe grabbed the book and opened it. Her face fell as she flipped a few more pages.

"I think this is a journal of some kind." Flipping through a few more pages, she added. "A very advanced study of some sort it seems..." Pheobe quieted as she started reading.

Helga grabbed another book out of the box. It looked similar to the first with one exception. A gold snake eating its tail was centered in the beaten cover.

"The ouroboros." Helga snapped up when she heard Pheobe's voice.

"The _what?_ "

"The ouroboros. The serpent eating its own tail. It's been used in many cultures as a representation of the eternal return, or to put it simply, that everything begins must end and begin again." Pheobe said, her eyes still scanning the pages in front of her. Turning the book over, she presented Helga with a page full of strange symbols and lines of equations Helga couldn't begin to understand. "I'm not sure but I think I've seen some of this in my books about string theory…" She turned the book around and flipped through a few more pages. "Fascinating…" She looked in awe at what she was reading, almost breathless.

Helga opened up the book. The old pages were covered in notes and drawings within the margins. The handwriting didn't look like her grandmothers at all. The scrawl was too neat and well formed. She shook her head and looked up at Pheobe.

"I don't think these are the old bat's books. I've never seen this writing before. Grandma's was chicken scratch compared to how this is…" Helga trailed off. None of it really seemed to make sense but she assumed all the information in these books was connected somehow. It had to all mean something.

Pheobe's eyes never left the page as she interjected. "Maybe another relative then? This is pretty fascinating stuff." Phoebe looked up at Helga. "Are you going to show Arnold? You know he would be equally enchanted in this amazing find."

Helga shook her head. "I don't know. He was going with his Dad to pick up Stella from the hospital so I don't know if I want to share this..." She looked closely at some of the drawings within the margins, geometric in shape with symbols that she had never seen before. "I think he has enough to think about right now…"

The color had drained out of Pheobe's face as she stared down at the book in her hand.

"Pheobe… what's wrong? Did you find something?" Helga said as she reached across the table and grabbed the book from Pheobe's now limp hands.

Helga looked down at the yellowing page at a large geometric array that covered a majority of the paper. Symbols she didn't recognize surrounded the array. Looking closer, Helga felt her body run cold. At the very center of the array sat a symbol that she hadn't since San Lorenzo. The symbol that she had hoped to forget all about.

She looked up at her bespectacled friend. Helga turned her shock into determination and stated, "We have to figure out what this is, Phoebe. I know Arnold will want to see this but I have to know what this means before I show him."

Even though Pheobe looked as if she would rather not, she nodded her head in agreement. Swallowing her fear, Pheobe put money on the table and looked up at Helga with new found conviction.

"I have at least an idea what this might be. I know where we need to go." Pheobe said as she gathered up the books. Helga smiled and proceeded to gather her own things. Both girls headed out of the restaurant with a new sense of purpose in their steps. Without turning to Helga, Pheobe whispered to herself, hoping she wouldn't hear her. "I just hope my hypothesis is incorrect..."

* * *

Arnold pushed open the front door and carefully helped his mom inside. She had woken up from surgery Sunday morning and, after much fighting with her doctors, was released to recover at home. Miles followed behind them in carrying Stella's things. Arnold led her to the stairs, guiding her to the banister so she could steady herself. Stella let go of his hand and took a careful step up.

"Wait, Mom let me help you..."

Stella slapped his hand away. "I wish everyone would stop fussing. I think I can get up the stairs at least."

At these words Stella stumbled on the second step and Arnold caught her. "Well alright maybe I do need help." She muttered stubbornly under her breath. Arnold looked back at Miles in time to see him roll his eyes and shake his head.

"Somethings never change, do they, Dear?" Arnold snickered at his Dad's comment.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." He heard his mother scoff. "I'll remember that next time you fall off the side of a mountain…"

Making it to her bedroom, Stella shook Arnold off again and made her way slowly to the bed. Arnold cringed as he watched his mom struggle to walk across the hardwood floor. "I'll go get you the cane the doctor..."

"I don't need a cane!" Stella snapped at him. "I kept telling him I don't need it and I don't want it! I think I know what I need." She glared back at her son.

Arnold stepped back, surprised at her temper. He took a deep breath before he spoke. "Mom, I'm just trying to help you. Everyone is just trying to help…" He tried to keep a soft, reassuring tone but it was proving more difficult than usual. Being the calm and collected one always came naturally to him but when Stella got frustrated with him, he always found it hard not to react.

Stella softened her expression and sighed. The bags under her eyes were dark and her skin was pale. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm just not good at playing patient I guess."

Finally making it to the bed, she sat down. Looking over at her closet, she pointed and said. "Can you get in the top shelf and hand me the large box up there?"

Arnold sighed at her change in the conversation but he did as she asked and brought the box to the bed. Stella smiled when she opened the lid, bringing color back to her cheeks. Pictures littered the box as well as a few odds and ends that probably only meant something to her. Looking up at Arnold, she patted the bed next to her. He sighed and sat down as she started rummaging through the stacks of photographs. She seemed to be looking for something particular as she flipped through random stacks of pictures.

"This box is full of all the pictures I ever took when I was a kid." Stella continued to shuffle the stacks of photographs around. "All the way up till I left for medical school. A few of these I've always wanted to show you... Ah! Here we go!"

Stella handed Arnold a small stack of photographs. The one on top was an old Polaroid picture of an oblong-headed girl with bright blue and pink hair standing in front of the stoop of a brownstone. She wore tore black pants, mid-calf combat boots, and a ratty shirt. As she grimaced a smile, she defiantly flipped off the camera.

Arnold gasped and looked up at his mom. "Is that you?"

Stella smiled proudly and nodded. "Yup! That's me! I definitely wasn't into your typical stuff but I was still a good kid. I think I was around, oh maybe, 17 in that picture. I was a little wild but hey, it was New York in the early 80s. What can you do?"

Arnold shuffled through the stack. One photograph portrayed a younger Stella playing guitar on a beat-up couch, this time with short neon green spikes for hair. Another with her standing in the middle of a group of friends, drinking cans wrapped with paper sacks. And yet another of her younger self with half-faded purple locks, grinning widely at the camera holding what looked like the top of a glass vase in her hand. He looked back up at his mother, a doctor and a botanist with three degrees, and he felt his stomach do a flip. _Is that a…?_

He heard his mother snicker a little and said. "The answer is yes." Arnold looked up at her, at a loss for words. "And I'm not mad you know what that is." She said. "And if you've done that before, you know…"

Arnold felt his stomach drop to the floor and he shook his head quickly. "Noooo, never! I've never smoked…" he said, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck. "But, I've been around it. My friends and stuff…" He felt terribly awkward talking about something like this with his mother. It was illegal after all. The last thing he ever wanted to do was get in trouble and disappoint his family.

Stella laughed again. "Well I wondered but I figured as much."

Arnold felt a little weird about his mom laughing at the thought of him doing something like that, or rather, not doing something like that. Shrugging it off, he looked back down at the photos. He was happy to be learning more about her. They hadn't spent much time together and he didn't know that much about her really so it was nice she was opening up like this to him. It made him feel closer to her to know this new human side that he had never knew existed.

"I would have never expected and of this, Mom." Arnold said. "This is so awesome…"

Arnold peaked back into the box and grabbed a portrait-style photo of an older couple. A tall man wearing a brown suit stood in the back of the photo. His face was stern but warm. It almost looked like he had a smile itching across his lips but he was trying to hold it back. He kept a thick mustache on his otherwise smooth football-shaped face. His dark brown hair was flecked with grey but his eyes were a steel blue. A woman stood next to him dressed in a white blouse and matching white bell bottoms. Her blonde hair was feathered around her face with large waves haloing her face. Arnold looked back at the older man and couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of familiarity.

Stella gently grabbed the photo from Arnold and turned it over for a better look. "I had to keep telling him to stop smiling." She said. She wore a radiant smile of her own as she continued. "He was always a happy guy. He was making silly jokes, trying to make Mom break and smile through the whole thing. She definitely had a better poker face then he did."

"Who are they?" Arnold asked.

"They are my parents. Your grandparents." Stella eyes started to glisten as she looked at the photo. "I wish you could have met them, Arnold. You would have loved them." She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. "And they would have adored you."

Arnold smiled at his mother's words. He looked back into the box and saw more pictures of his grandfather. He was laughing in most of them and he seemed to be standing in an environment that resembled a lab.

"You know, you're named after him." She said. "He was a brilliant man. A scientist. He taught astrophysics at Columbia to keep his work going." Stella gushed. "I would spend hours in his study playing or reading while he worked. Even when I interrupted him in the middle of his research, he always stopped and made time for me."

She spotted another photo and handed it to Arnold. It was the same man but this time, he was smiling wide for the camera, wearing a well-worn t-shirt and blue jeans, holding a small child in front of him. The little girl looked like she was laughing and waving her arms.

Arnold pointed at the girl and looked at his mother. Stella smiled and nodded. "Yup, that's me." He had never seen photos of his mother at a young age. Grandpa had albums full of Miles as a child but these were all so new to him.

"What about your mom?" Arnold looked back over at the studious woman that stood by his grandfather. If she was anything like her photo implied, he was kind of okay he had never met her.

Stella smiled but not nearly as wide as before. "Well, Mom was…" Stella shrugged. "We weren't that close. We didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things. It kind of got worse the older I got. I spent a lot of time with her as a child but I just gravitated more towards Dad as I grew older. He never cared what I wore or what I did with my appearance. As long as I still studied and continued to work hard on my classes, he was happy. Mom and I just butted heads a lot…" Stella's voice started to drift off. "I guess it's all really trivial now…"

Arnold frowned at the sad look on his mother's face. Hesitantly, he asked, "What happened to them, Mom?"

Stella's face fell as she avoided Arnold's gaze. "Well, when I left for my freshman year, Mom got sick." She took a deep breath and swallowed hard before she could continue. "I told Dad I wanted to come home - help him take care of her so he wouldn't have to do it alone - but he wouldn't hear of it. He said that my studies were top priority. I was pretty upset with him but I respected what he said. Besides, I knew I would be coming home on the weekends to check on them so I let it go. So, I came home and she seemed _great_. She was tired and on bed rest but for the most part she seemed like she felt better. After the visit, I talked to Dad alone and he seemed in good spirits, too. Said that he had figured out what was wrong and that she was going to be fine. He did have knowledge of medicine so it made sense to me that he would know what he was talking about..."

Staring off at some memory within the grain of the wood floor, she continued. "Later that week, she passed away. It was sudden." She let out a bitter, yet sad laugh. "I had to get the call from my Dad's lab assistant. I tried calling my Dad over and over and no one ever picked up. I ended up going home that night. When I finally got there, something was wrong. I had never seen the house lit up like that… it was eerie and looked like..." She visibly shivered. "I finally got Dad to answer the door but… he wasn't…" She looked at Arnold, seemingly thinking about what to say next. Arnold felt a strange chill go up and down his spine. He felt like this was all familiar somehow.

Shaking her head, she said, "He was upset. He didn't recognize me at first but he did eventually." Stella's eyes darted back over to Arnold and she sighed. "I think loosing Mom like that pushed him to the edge. I was scared of what he might do and I went to get help. When I had gotten back, the house was already in flames."

Arnold's eyes were wide. This was something he definitely expect. He had no idea that his mother had such a painful past. It seemed like a terrible memory for his mother to share but his curiosity out got the better of him.

"Did you ever find out what happened?" He asked.

Stella shook her head and shrugged. "The cops said it looked like a chemical fire because it burned so hot and so fast. The explosion had come from deep in the ground. I guess that was his lab. They recovered some of his notes but the most important books and research were gone. I started to wonder what Dad was really doing. He could have been working on anything. I tried the college but they wouldn't let me view all of it. Classified they said. What little I had of his had led me to Central America. The more time went by, the weaker the clues were to finding the answers I needed. I started traveling from village to village, working on humanitarian goals but still trying to find anything I could. I never found out what truly happened. But I've made peace with it. I met your father and I never looked back."

Arnold frowned looking into the still photograph. He sighed. He felt horrible for his mother but he was glad she finally told him what had happened to her parents. This was the first time she had really talked about them and now he understood why. Her being sick had probably brought all of these memories to the surface.

He reached across the bed and grabbed his mother's hand. "Thank you for telling me, Mom." Stella squeezed his hand, shaking slightly. She looked up and he could see she had started to cry. She nodded and said, "I know I should have told you sooner. They were your family too but it's just… not easy to talk about."

"Its okay, Mom. I understand." He said. Looking back at the photo of his grandparent's, he felt a new found closeness to them. Learning more about his family's history was always a great puzzle that he felt he needed to finish. He spend too much of his young life in the dark about a lot of things. Thinking more about his grandfather, he started to wonder what really happened.

Holding up the photo in his hand, he said, "Can I keep this?"

Stella smiled, whipping away her cheeks. "Of course. It's yours. Feel free to look through all of these. There are more of both of them in here."

He smiled wide, happy that his mother suggested what he really wanted to ask. Grabbing the box, he headed for the door way, excited to see what else he could find. Stopping, he dropped the box and turned around.

"Thanks, Mom. Do you need anything?" He said, hugging his mom.

"I got her, son." Miles walked into the room and put his hand on Arnold's shoulder. "You go on. We have work to do." Miles and Stella exchanged a look and nodded.

Arnold smiled up at his father. "Alright! Um, is it still okay that Helga comes over tonight?"

Miles looked over at Stella and she joyfully responded. "Of course, Arnold! Just enjoy your night and make sure you guys say hi later. I want to wish her a happy birthday after all!"

Arnold smiled wide and grabbed the box before leaving the room. Miles looked after him, watching him climb the stairs to his room and closing the door. Backing into the room, Miles did the same and turned to his wife.

"I'm surprised you told him that much." He said as he walked over to the bed.

"He really does deserve to know what happened." She said, starting to feel her body throb from exhaustion.

Miles wrapped his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. "Just not everything, right?"

Stella shook her head. "Not yet anyway." She looked put her hand over his and looked over at him with concern in her eyes. "If this is what I think it is, we might need his help, Miles."

Miles face fell as he looked over at the door. He was worried she was going to say that. "I don't think that's a good idea, Stells. I just don't want him to…"

"But, Miles…" Stella put her hand to his cheek and turned his face to her own. "They told us this might happen and when it did…"

Miles shook his head, still trying to push away her statements. "I know but this is a lot to drop on a kid his age. I just want him to have a normal life."

"I do too but he will find out sooner or later." Stella's voice fell. "And when he does and he finds out we didn't tell him anything, it will only make it harder."

Miles nodded, tired but willing to try to be excepting of what was happening. Stepping over to their closet, he moved a panel that was hidden in the floor to reveal a hidden keypad. Entering a few numbers, the panel slid to the side. He picked up a parcel wrapped in an old red handkerchief that rested safely inside and brought it back to the bed, setting it in Stella's reaching hand.

Stella unwrapped the cloth revealing a dark, leather bound book.

"So, back to old tricks then?" Miles said at the sight of the well-preserved tome.

"Back to old tricks." Stella said. Gently wiping off the leather cover, she smiled at the gold seal. The serpent chasing its tail gleamed in the low light of the room, giving off an energy all its own.


End file.
